Whiskey Lullaby
by Timbereads
Summary: Broken and alone, they have only their alchol to warm them at night. At least now they have each other. [Oneshot] [Character death] [Just some angsty fluff. Reviews are appreciated]


Sometimes in our lives, there's nothing we can do to prevent the pain that comes with love. Despite warnings and hard times, the human spirit will never fully grasp the concept that often love can destroy even the strongest willed.

**She put him out**

**Like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette**

**She broke his heart**

**He spent his whole life tryin' to forget**

House stared at Cameron as she tried to explain her thoughts. Though he knew ultimately where she was going, he found himself clinging to that single ray of hope that maybe he was wrong. She wasn't breaking up with him. They were having a "chat." In his heart of hearts he felt what he refused to acknowledge. It was over.

Cameron led him out of her small apartment, softly closing the door in his face. House stood still, straining for the sound of her small footsteps rushing back to the door. It did not come. Still, even as he limped to his bike, he constantly looked back, waiting for the love of his life to appear.

**We watched him drink his pain away**

**A little at a time**

**But he never could get drunk enough**

**To get her off his mind**

The silhouette of a man against a wall was visible only to those who were looking. The man clutched a whiskey bottle, muttering under his breath. The man was there every night, drowning his sorrows in alcohol. House never contemplated other outlets to his pain. To him, getting drunk was his only option. It numbed his pain, both from his leg and from his heart.

Three years had gone by since his soul mate had rejected him. He'd never recovered, and we never expected that he would. Instead of facing his misery, House threw it in a corner, along with empty bottles. He did nothing else. Until the night…

**He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger**

**And finally drank away her memory**

**Life is short but this time it was bigger**

**Than the strength he had to get up off his knees**

Sobbing, House clutched blindly for the doorknob. Unable to reach it in time, he fell to his knees, vomit pouring from his wretched mouth and shockwaves of agony rolling over his thigh. When the convulsions stopped, he collapsed beside the door to his bathroom. Tears dripped from his clenched eyes. Images flashed behind his eyelids. Images of Allison.

Dry heaves wracked his body once more. He cried out in pain as the alcohol seared through his veins. It was then that he knew what to do.

Crawling across the cluttered floor he found a piece of paper, dried whiskey curling its edges. House blindly scrawled the words with a discarded pen, choking back sobs as he wrote.

He thought of her beautiful face; her soft fingers; her green eyes. He imagined the way she smiled and the way she brushed her long brown locks from her eyes.

**We found him with his face down in the pillow**

**With a note that said I'll love her till I die**

**And when we buried him beneath the willow**

**The angels sang a whiskey lullaby**

We gave the mortician explicit directions: he was not to remove the note from his hand. Even in death, we all knew House would have wanted it that way.

The trees seemed to mourn his death; their outstretched branches drooped sadly as the last flower was lain across his grave. The wind that blew softly through their leaves sang a sad song. Sang a whiskey lullaby.

**The rumors flew**

**But nobody know how much she blamed herself**

**For years and years**

**She tried to hide the whiskey on her breath**

Allison Cameron was at his funeral, standing in the back by the cars. One tear fell from her eyes before she climbed into her own truck and drove away. We never saw her the same way again.

She never smiled anymore, and her eyes dulled. We all remember her beautiful laugh; she said she was fine, but she never laughed again. In her mind, she was constantly chasing away his image, replacing it with dreams of whiskey and drunken contentedness.

**She finally drank her pain away**

**A little at a time**

**But she never could get drunk enough**

**To get him off her mind**

After a while, she didn't feel any more pain. Every night, she just wallowed in her alcohol. I don't think she even came out anymore, except maybe to get more drink.

He still haunted her dreams, though.

**She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger**

**And finally drank away his memory**

**Life is short but this time it was bigger**

**Than the strength she had to get up off her knees**

Cameron leaned against the wall, gasping for breath as she poured the whiskey down her throat. It burned, but she felt no pain. Closing her swollen eyes, she saw his laughing face, beckoning to her. A soft breeze blew his short curls, and his blue eyes twinkled in the early morning sun.

She didn't want to live anymore. Not without him. Not without him.

The empty bottle fell from her hands, smashing on the bare floor. Glass pierced her skin but she didn't care. Greg would fix it.

**We found her with her face down in the pillow**

**Clinging to his picture for dear life**

**We laid her next to him beneath the willow**

**While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby**

As we walked away from their graves, the wind blew once more over the willow's limbs.


End file.
